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“I didn’t expect you so soon.” Still looking at the floor, Gillian made to bend over once again, but he stopped her.

“Nay,” he said, much too sharply. “What are you looking for?”

“A pin,” she said. “It fell from my hair and ’tis the one Allie gave me on my naming day last year.”

Spotting the pin, he reached down and picked it up.

“Are you still worried for her?” he asked, handing it over. There had been no messages from Lyndwood.

Gillian placed the pin back into her hair. The front was pulled back and piled onto her head, but the back hung in loose waves. She looked lovely, of course, but he preferred her hair down so that he had a reason to reach for it.

“I am. What do you think she plans?”

Graeme looked up.

It was not the first time they’d discussed the matter, and Graeme repeated what he’d said before. “I just don’t know her well enough to say. Though I know you worry about her.”

“She’s just so young . . .”

Graeme shook his head. “When my father died unexpectantly, there were many who worried about my age. They asked, and not very privately, if I possessed enough wisdom to be chief.”

Gillian listened as he remembered the doubts he’d had himself. Ones he was determined not to share, with the exception of his brother.

“Those who knew me well, knew my father had sufficiently influenced my training, were not as worried. But the elders took some convincing.”

Gillian understood.

“She could not possibly be thinking of a nunnery.” She frowned, at least able to accept that her sister was capable, despite her age. “Allie has always enjoyed the attention of young men, though precious few were suitable. But that hardly seemed to matter to—”

“Did you?” Graeme stood dangerously close to his wife.

“Did I what?”

“Enjoy the attention of young men?”

She seemed to consider it. “I believe all young women enjoy receiving some attention. In fact, young men do too. Who prefers to be ignored? But nay, not like Allie. She even rouged her cheeks once—”

“But not from their husbands?” He moved just a bit closer.

“I do not understand.”

“Women enjoy receiving attention, but not from their husbands?” He was close enough to breathe in her sweet scent. To see the blue in her eyes, which shone bright and innocent. At least, much too innocent for his taste. Graeme had so much more to show her.

“I did not say—”

“One kiss, my queen?”

When her lips parted, he knew she would relent.

“No?”

This would not be as easy as he had hoped.

“We have a deal, Graeme. And it has only been—”

“Four days. I know exactly how long it has been, and longer still since you were angry at me.”

When her face fell, Graeme knew he’d said something wrong. That he’d reminded her of something she would rather have forgotten.